


Infernal Assignments

by Thestarlitrose



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Antichrist Acquisition, Adam Young Still Has Powers (Good Omens), Adam just wants to shower, Alternate Universe - College/University, Demon Summoning, Fluff, Humor, Latin Homework gone bad, M/M, No Angst, Shirtless Antichrists, Warlock is shy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestarlitrose/pseuds/Thestarlitrose
Summary: Warlock Dowling is having translation trouble. More precisely, he's having trouble concentrating when his ex-roommate and crush keeps popping in at the most inopportune moments.
Relationships: Warlock Dowling/Adam Young
Comments: 16
Kudos: 186





	Infernal Assignments

**Author's Note:**

> A very big thank you to my beta [Euny_Sloane!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euny_Sloane/pseuds/Euny_Sloane)
> 
> Warning: I do not speak Latin and I've definitely never been to Oxford. Just pretend for me?

Warlock Dowling was, if nothing else, a good student. He worked hard on his studies and his hard work had paid off.

Numbers came easily to him, as did English and history. Latin, however, did not. Why he had decided to do a double major and add Latin to his degree program was beyond him. He partially blamed the strange nanny he’d had as a kid. Perhaps it was a way to bring her back, or just to recall a time when things had been carefree. It wasn’t that he _disliked_ Latin… it was just that sometimes he wanted to throw his textbook against the wall and scream.

History had been a breeze. Warlock had spent ninety-five percent of his free time growing up with his nose stuck in one book or another; partially due to his old gardener, partially as a way to escape his family. Historical fiction had always been a favorite of his and it just seemed to fit for him to study the places he’d read about so often in his favorite works of fiction. 

He’d finished his senior project for History the semester before and was on track to graduate come May _If_ he could manage to finish his Latin project. He’d chosen a fascinating topic; a collection of books that nobody had seen fit to translate in their entirety and had been seemingly forgotten. At least, until Warlock had found them.

They had been identified as texts related to ancient occult or religious practices and shelved for someone else to discover some hundred or so years ago.

And discover them, he had. Oxford was a treasure trove of old volumes and hidden finds.

Overall the collection had read much like Revelation. The words on the page had sent chills down his spine. Each page filled with prophecies or spells to end the world in flame. It was _fascinating_. Fire and brimstone, even demons!

It was all complete nonsense, but interesting as hell.

He’d decided to mainly focus on the deep red volume. The cover was worn. There were no authors listed, nor anything on the outside that would give any indication of the contents. By early February, he’d made it nearly all the way through translating it. 

The work he’d done on this project was bound to get him published. He just had to figure out what the hell this particular section was about. So far, he’d deciphered that it was some type of spell—perhaps one thought to bring about the end of the world.

To have the power to end the world…Warlock shivered. He was glad _that_ particular gift would never fall to him.

He worried his lip; his teeth tugged at a piece of loose skin there until it inevitably tore. Blood welled crimson against the pink of his mouth. He wiped it away with the side of his hand which was then smeared against the paper he’d been writing on.

Warlock wrinkled his nose and shrugged. It had been an accident, but it was just scrap paper.

He read over the page again, his eyes flitting across symbols and words whose meanings were long forgotten.

His pen tapped against his notebook, his hand in his chin.

A heavy sigh echoed through the room followed by the _tap, tap, tap_ of his pen.

Warlock dropped the pen and hung his head over his desk. His hair fell over his face like a curtain. He stayed hunched over, eyes roaming the page until his neck began to cramp.

Another sigh was followed by a frustrated groan and several tugs on his hair. He needed a trim; his father didn’t like that he kept his hair long. It didn’t matter that it was his hair, on his own head, or that he was 23 years old. Because of his father’s job, Warlock was in the public eye and he needed to “look the part.”

He hated it.

Warlock shook thoughts of his father out of his head and pulled his hair into a bun secured in place by the elastic band he kept on his wrist.

He began to copy the symbols depicted under the sentence he’d been working on. The twisting shapes and letters were pretty, albeit strange.

Something about the symbols felt familiar, comforting, even friendly. It felt like home. Warmth filled him and he smiled as he traced the symbol onto the paper. His finger brushed over the dried ink. The longer he stared at it, the more certain he was that he was missing something.

Warlock groaned again. He’d been looking at this for too long. He began to write the words on the page, speaking them aloud as he wrote.

_Tap, tap, tap_ , went his pen against the page.

“What the—Warlock?”

He dropped his pen with a startled gasp. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

He turned around in his chair and frowned. Leave it to Adam Young to blatantly ignore the closed-door rule and waltz right into his dorm like he owned the place. “The door was closed. Can’t you see I’m working?”

Adam opened his mouth then closed it with a snap. His eyes roamed around the room; eyebrows knitted tightly together. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, mate.”

If Warlock had to guess he would say that Adam hadn’t meant to walk in. Did he even live in the same building? The last he’d heard he had been talking about an off-campus room with his friend Pepper. 

Warlock asked, “How’d you even get in, I thought the door was locked?” Adam shrugged.

This was really the last thing he needed: for his long-time crush to just show up unannounced in his room and… “Adam. Where the hell is your shirt?”

Warlock bit his tongue to keep himself from turning red as he watched Adam’s flush creep down his chest. Of course— _of course,_ he would look this good shirtless. He knew that. They’d been roommates their first year of uni but never managed to get on well enough to risk another year crammed into the same bedroom.

If he were being honest with himself, Adam was the perfect roommate and an even better friend. Adam was easy going and always managed to make Warlock laugh. He was a little messy but he more than made up for it with his charisma. That first semester; before he’d realized why he wanted to spend all of his time with Adam, before he’d messed everything up by catching feelings, had been one of the best times in his life. Warlock had never stood a chance against Adam’s charm, but he had tried his best to hide his feelings. Maybe too well, since he had come off as churlish. By the end of the spring term, Adam seemed to barely tolerate him. 

“I…” began Adam, then shook his head and shrugged. He couldn’t very well tell Warlock that he’d been about to shower when he’d felt a sharp tug behind his navel and was dropped unceremoniously onto his ex-roommate’s floor.

Warlock sighed for what he thought must have been the hundredth time in the last hour. “Well?” he asked.

Adam shrugged again, looking anywhere but at him.

“I actually need a distraction anyway. This part is giving me a headache.”

“What is it?” asked Adam, stepping closer to the desk to inspect what he’d been working on.

“It’s for my Latin seminar. It’s actually pretty cool. Detailed information about demons and shit. Spells to bring about the end of the world—if I’m translating correctly. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Adam hummed nervously. “So—you think the end of the world is... _cool_?”

“No, but the authors did. They really believed in that kind of thing; can you believe it?” Warlock snorted. “All of that Revelations bullshit at the command of whoever wields this book… or so they thought.”

Adam was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place, so he said, “Young, don’t tell me you _actually_ believe there’s going to be some antichrist show up and rain terror across the land? It’s laughable. Maybe if people stopped worrying so much about someone else ending the world and about what they are doing to the Earth, things wouldn’t be so shit right now.”

Adam chewed on his lip, arms crossed over his bare chest. Warlock had never known Adam Young to be at a loss for words. Adam looked from Warlock to the paper and back to Warlock. “You’re not wrong…”

“Exactly. Look. Not to be rude, but I think I’m gonna head to the café. I’ve been working on this for hours and frankly, I’m sick of looking at it.” Warlock stood up, grabbed his wallet and his keys, then Adam’s arm and pulled him out of his room and into the hall.

Adam blinked as the other man strode off in the other direction. “Hey, Warlock! Wait! Let me get my shirt, yeah? A nice cuppa sounds good about now. I’d love to pick your brain about your project.”

To Warlock’s surprise, he and Adam kept running into one another. Ever since he’d showed up in his room two weeks earlier, it seemed like Warlock couldn’t be free of him. Where before Adam would have staunchly avoided him, he now would seek Warlock out. Adam had even sent him a few texts that had completely distracted Warlock from doing any major studying for an entire evening. But even with the increase in communication, Adam still hadn’t said why he had stopped by but it had been nice. Really nice.

His crush was still there; hiding just behind his ribcage ready to pounce when Adam so much as walked by him on Campus. Warlock hated it, but he had long resigned himself to having feelings for the other man. It was hopeless. One sunshine-bright grin from Adam and his pathetic heart stuttered.

Still, he’d missed this. Warlock wished he’d tried to keep their friendship, but at the time he’d been too desperate for his annoying crush to go away. 

It was a Sunday. Warlock had his notes out, Laptop open to the document that housed the book he’d been working in. After nearly two weeks of ignoring _that_ section altogether, he had finally cracked open his notebook. it wasn’t his fault that every time he tried to look at it, visions of a bare-chested Adam Young popped into his head.

It was distracting as fuck.

He had been at it for almost an hour and had finally taken to repeating each word aloud when a voice startled him out of his study.

“Working on that translation again?”

Warlock nearly fell out of his chair, only catching himself on the edge of his desk at the last second. He turned around; hand clasped over his heart.

He squeaked. Eyebrows rising to his hairline and mouth falling open in surprise.

Adam was standing in his bedroom, arms crossed, red-faced and dripping wet with a towel hung low around his waist.

“A—Adam?” Warlock blinked.

“Right. We need to have a talk. I’m going to go get dressed and then we’re going to the pub. Do not say whatever it was you just said again. Trust me. Yeah?”

“Sure.” Warlock swallowed, his mouth had gone dry. Warlock could feel the traitorous flush as it crept up his neck and bloomed across his face.

Adam was sitting in front of him with a plate of chips and pint that he’d been nursing for nearly twenty minutes. They’d been long past awkward small talk and were both clearly avoiding the subject at hand.

Adam sat back in his seat, he raked a hand through his curly hair and sighed. “So. Warlock. We need to talk.”

Warlock frowned. “You’re the one that keeps breaking into my room.”

“Not on purpose.”

Warlock growled, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me about what you’re working on?” asked Adam softly.

His eyes narrowed. “I told you. It’s something that is somehow supposed to summon the end of times. Revelation and all of that bullshit.”

“Right. Now, how many times have you worked on this particular spell?”

Warlock’s frown deepened. “just the twice. _Someone_ keeps interrupting me.”

“Ok. Both times, I’ve shown up when your door was locked.”

“It couldn’t have been locked, Adam or you wouldn’t have gotten in.” Warlock pointed out.

Adam wrinkled his nose and gave Warlock a pointed look. “I just appeared in your bedroom. Your locked bedroom. Without all of my clothes. Twice. You don’t find that odd.”

“Well yeah, of course, it’s weird but…” Warlock tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Would you believe it if I said that you are incredibly well versed in Latin and your pronunciation was a bit too on the nose?”

Warlock’s mouth fell open. “W—what?”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t do it again; saying the spell aloud that is, but I can’t risk you saying it around someone else. What if you accidentally summoned me during your presentation?” Adam said softly. He watched Warlock closely for his reaction. Adam hoped Warlock wouldn’t draw attention to them. It was probably a bad idea to tell the guy you’d recently developed a thing for that you were the son of Satan in the middle of a packed pub on a Friday night but really, he’d had worse ideas.

Warlock had gone pale, eyes wide and mouth open. “What? You—Adam. That’s not funny.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not funny, but I’m not lying.”

Warlock shook his head. “What exactly—tell me exactly what is going on. Now. Or I’m leaving.”

“My name is Adam Young. I’m 23 years old, and I also happen to be the son of Satan.”

Warlock had sat back against the booth he was sitting in. “You’re lying. Th—that isn’t possible. It’s not real. None of it.”

Adam popped a chip into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He glanced around the room then snapped his fingers. The effect was immediate. The noise of the crowd dissolved. People around them were motionless.

“Fuck! You...Shit. What?” Warlock jumped out of the booth, nearly knocking over one of the frozen patrons. His heart pounded, and his breathing was labored.

Adam shook his head, waving to gesture at the frozen patrons. “I don’t do this sort of thing often. Not really. Always a little worried it will stick and I’ll be in a frozen world… and I haven’t told anyone. Not since my Mum and Dad, anyway.”

“But...you’re not evil!” blurted Warlock. He dropped back into his seat. It was too much new information to process.

Adam grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I try not to be. But when I was eleven, I did try to end the world. I had good friends though. They managed to talk me out of it.”

“So, when I’ve been working on my project…”

“You’ve been accidentally summoning me. That’s what the spell is for, to summon the antichrist.”

“Oh.”

Adam nodded. “It’s not that I mind but you have my number… might be a little more practical?”

Warlock’s face heated. 

Adam continued, “I would like to look at the book, with your help?”

“Of course,” nodded Warlock. 

“It’s just; if there is a summoning spell, there could be more? Something dangerous. If the author got the summoning correctly… I’m betting there is a spell in there that would bind me to you.” Adam reached across the table, palm up. A peace offering.

Warlock cautiously placed his hand down atop of Adam’s. He felt terrible and embarrassed. “I don’t want to keep you.” He spluttered. “... I mean, not like _that._ ” Warlock’s already hot face flamed and pulled his hand away. “Oh god, no. Sorry. I just meant—”

Adam shook his head as he laughed. “I knew what you meant. At least take me on a few dates before you start talking marriage, yeah?”

Warlock squeaked in reply. He hadn’t meant for his words to sound as flirtatious as they had and he certainly hadn’t meant to imply he had feelings for Adam, no matter how true the statement was. He hated how flustered Adam could make him feel. His half-empty glass was suddenly the best place to look. If he looked at Adam, he would end up making a fool out of himself again.

Adam gave a half-smile, which Warlock missed, and continued to pick at his plate.

A few minutes passed before either spoke up. The quiet in the room was unnerving, Warlock tried to ignore the woman frozen in place beside them. It was creepy. 

Warlock cleared his throat. “So, God, the devil… all of that shit is real?”

“All of it.”

“Huh.” Warlock dragged his hand through his hair. “...and you’re the antichrist?” Warlock could feel the hysteria creeping into his voice as he spoke. 

Adam laughed. “The one and only… well, unless Beelzebub or Gabriel get it in their head to try and start again.” He made a face of disgust as if picturing something horrible.

“I need to change my research, don’t I?” asked Warlock.

“It wouldn’t hurt to maybe make a few changes? I’d rather not be summoned against my will or made into someone’s weapon. I trust you not to do that but if someone else decided to take a look…”

Warlock nodded his agreement, then noticed that nobody had moved for the better part of ten minutes. “Should you uh…” he tilted his head in the direction of the bar.

Adam glanced over and laughed. “Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that, actually.” He snapped his fingers, and people around them continued on their way as if they’d never been paused.

“That’s a dead useful trick.” 

“Sometimes.” Replied Adam.

Warlock watched the other patrons walk by in a daze as Adam munched on his food. He turned back to Adam. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For summoning you? For putting you in danger. For messing with things that I should have been more careful with.”

Adam shrugged. “You didn’t mean to. There are worse people to be bound to… even if you do leave your socks everywhere.”

“That’s not funny! What if I’d done someth—”

Adam shook his head. “You didn’t. That’s all that matters. Besides, I’m glad you know. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to about this sort of thing.” 

Warlock itched to touch Adam’s hand again. To do something, anything. He could tell that Adam was struggling and he wanted to make it better.

Adam chewed his lip. “I have my old friends; the ones I grew up with who know, but none of them are here. My Godfathers are around, but they spend most of their time mooning over each other. There’s only so many times you can walk in on them before it gets old… and now you know too.”

Warlock laughed. “I don’t mind. I like talking to you, Adam. Thank you for telling me, I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

Adam smirked and nudged his foot under the table. “So, demon summoning aside, how has your day been?”

Warlock shook his head with a grin. It wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to end his day. He didn’t know how to deal with the fact that his long-time crush was the antichrist or how to unpack some of what Adam had said earlier; _take me on a few dates first_. He shouldn’t even be focusing on that part of the conversation, but this felt good. It felt right.

“It’s funny.”

Adam raised an eyebrow at him.

“The symbol. The one I couldn’t figure out. It felt familiar. It’s why I kept going back to it. I’m sure the translation I had would have been sufficient but I think… I think it reminded me of _you_.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“You—you’re warm. When I’m around you, that is, I feel warm. Like the nights we spent watching Netflix or when you’d bring me a coffee just because. It made me think of the time we spent together before I realized I liked you.” Finished Warlock softly. He looked away; face hot, unable to bring himself to look at Adam.

“You’re adorable.” Snorted Adam.

Warlock crossed his arms over his chest in a mock pout. “Shut it.”

“I meant what I said. I don’t mind you calling on me, but maybe send a text instead? I think it’s too early to talk about marriage but I wouldn’t mind a second date. Maybe I’ll even get to finish my shower beforehand.” Grinned Adam with a wink.

Warlock felt his face heat again. God. He’d been in the shower, what if he hadn’t had that towel? He gulped and licked his lips. “I didn’t realize this was a date, Young.”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“Yeah, alright. But only if you share some of those chips.”

“First he summons me half-naked; which I’m perfectly polite about, and now he’s already stealing food off my plate.”

Warlock stuck out his tongue and grabbed a handful.

He still had questions, half of which he couldn’t articulate yet, and he was certain when the time came, Adam would answer them, but for now, he wanted nothing more than to finish his drink and maybe, just maybe, steal a kiss when they said goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty heavily inspired by _Carry On_ by Rainbow Rowell. What can I say, roommates who fall in love is kinda one of my favorite things.


End file.
